


DnP in Paris

by Bandom_Squirrel



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Artists, Fluff, France (Country), French Painters AU, M/M, Paris (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandom_Squirrel/pseuds/Bandom_Squirrel
Summary: Dan and Phil are street artists in Paris who fall in love.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	DnP in Paris

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the whole Camp Dan and Phil thing on Tumblr.

Phil loved his life as a street artist in the Place du Tertre, a square in Paris. By day, he’d sell his art to any tourists that passed, often painting the scenery around him as children and adults alike watched in wonder as he translated reality into art. He loved seeing them grin, as if they suddenly understood the beauty of art, and was often paid to paint people’s portraits. In the evenings, he’d work on his other paintings, ranging from more abstract displays of emotion to paintings of nearby landmarks, almost photographic in their resemblance. It was the best life he could imagine. 

Well, not entirely. There was the whole matter of the other street artist who always set up his booth next to his, and then proceeded to critique Phil’s art all day, as if he had the right to do so. Phil supposed he could always move where he set up and the other artist probably wouldn’t follow him, but this has been his spot first, and he wasn’t going to be scared into moving just because of some stuck up artist. 

Who happened to have adorable curls and the cutest dimples and who Phil overall couldn’t stop staring at. His name was Daniel, although he’d always been referred to as Dan by the other artists, not that Phil had been paying attention. The point is, he was conceited and bossy and Phil’s stupid crush on him didn’t make him any less annoying. 

“You know, your paintings might sell better if you used more muted colors. The bright ones are tacky and too much on the eye, and there really is a beauty in subtlety.” Phil clenched his hand so hard around his paintbrush that he was surprised it didn’t snap, and he sighed, turning to see Dan looking at him with a considering expression. He really didn’t have time for this. 

“I’m sorry that I don’t think that just because something’s all dark and depressing that it constitutes art,” Phil shot back, sending a quick glance towards Dan’s display before returning to his painting. He hadn’t been lying, exactly, Dan’s paintings did tend to be full of blacks and grays and have a generally gloomy feel to them, but they were also gorgeous displays of emotion that he couldn’t quite argue. And, as much as Phil hated to admit it, Dan did tend to have better sales than he did. 

“Fine then, if you’re going to be like that,” Dan snorted, as if he wasn’t the one who started it, and Phil bit back a retort, instead refocusing on his colorful rendition of the buildings around them. Screw Dan, his paintings were far from tacky or too hard on the eye, thank you very much. If he did try to add slightly darker shades to contrast the bright colors then that was completely his own idea. 

A few days later, he was having a slow day. They all were really, with it not exactly being tourist season and the weather being wet and cold. Still, he couldn’t really afford to take a day off, so he stood under the small tent he’d set up around his display, hoping he’d get at least one commission that day. 

For some reason, as he was looking around for potential customers, Phil’s eyes came to rest on Dan. The other artist didn’t seem to be having any better of luck than he was, gazing up and down the street wistfully and biting his lip. God, he was so beautiful. 

Before Phil had really made the decision to do so, he had picked up his paint and brushes and started copying Dan’s face to canvas. It was darker than most of his works, just as much to fit Dan’s general aesthetic as the gray weather, but he put care and feeling into it. Extra focus was put into Dan’s face, the way he looked out across the square, the way his curls fell so nicely over his forehead. Phil had had years of practice making portraits in a timely manner, so it didn’t take too long for his piece to be mostly done, just awaiting the finishing details. 

“Why are you staring at me?” It was at that point that Dan finally turned his head and met Phil’s gaze, and Phil felt himself blushing a deep scarlet. Dan narrowed his eyes. “Are you copying my paintings? I really didn’t take you to be the type, because truly, it would be so low to-“ Dan walked over to Phil’s booth as he spoke, and Phil didn’t have time to think up an excuse before Dan was staring at the painting, pausing mid sentence to gape. 

“I wanted to paint something and you were the only one around,” Phil defended as soon as he was able to make his mouth work again, still feeling the flush high on his cheeks. Dan fixed him with a dubious glance, looking pointedly around the square. 

“There are plenty of things around for you to paint,” Dan pointed out, and Phil shuffled awkwardly on his feet. Why had he ever thought it was a good idea to paint Dan? He obviously hadn’t in any way thought that through. 

“Well maybe I just wanted to paint you,” Phil admitted, looking at the painting so he wouldn’t need to meet Dan’s eyes. However, it only took a few moments of feeling Dan staring at him to turn to look at him, and to see that the other artist was smirking. 

“You know,” he began casually, but with a teasing drawl to his tone. “I really could’ve done a better job of painting my-“ Phil cut him off right then with a kiss, almost too short to even be considered a kiss, but there was only so far that his bravery was able to take him, alright? Dan abruptly stopped talking and grinned at him, this little adorable smile that made Phil forget that he’d been making fun of him. 

“Shut up,” Phil told him, and his voice came out sounding far more fond than he’d intended. Dan kept grinning at him, making no move to distance himself even slightly from where Phil stood completely in his space. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” Dan said, and Phil was somewhere between petulantly annoyed and willing to do whatever Dan asked of him. 

“You know, you could’ve made a move yourself if it was so important to you,” Phil countered, and Dan laughed. He picked up Phil’s hand in his own, and Phil felt his heart begin to beat erratically. 

“Maybe I should,” Dan considered, tracing his thumb over Phil’s knuckles and looking deep into his eyes. Phil tried not to show how he’d suddenly forgotten how to breathe. “Would you like to get crepes with me at Au Petit Comptoir?”

“Yes,” Phil found himself answering, because what else was there to say? “I very much would.” It became entirely more difficult to think of Dan as an annoying competing artist when he was leading him through the square by the hand, and it only grew more with each passing day where he could call Dan his.


End file.
